I want to hide you in my heart,
From lustful and ***** views .
I want to hide you in my smile.
From bad and cynic people .
I want to hide you in my soul
From gross and savage critics.
I know...
My love is hungry like hyena .
I know...
My love is thirsty like a demon.
I know...
My love is lonely like a killer.
I know...
My love...is here and waiting...
Are you coming?
I am waiting..
Dark...
You.
Me.
I.

we paint a pretty picture out of holding on
out of never giving up hope
but sometimes it’s knowing when to call it quits
it’s letting go when you don’t feel ready, because you realize you’re waiting for someone who’s already gone
he took the last train out of this dried up town and left you here to wilt away with it
understand that what you miss is only the embellished memories of someone you used to know
but he has changed since then- and you can grow without his nourishment

Another Model Town passes the windowed  train I ride
The train is suspended and still
A beggar, a barn, a family's backyard picnic
Each in their own concentric motion
I remain still in my seat
They remain in motion a perfect glimpse of life
A Model Life
Is life best at a glimpse? Or standing still?

Πόλη μου μικρή, μεγάλη, φουρτουνιασμένη,
πότε με βρίσκεις στους δρόμους σου
σ'ένα παγκάκι αδειανό,
σ'ένα παλιό καράβι.
Κι άλλοτε σε δρόμους που ανεβαίνουν, σε μαγαζάκια και στροφές,
και χθες σε δρόμο που κατέβαινε και κατρακυλούσαν φύλλα, φωνές.

Πόλη μου,
πότε με χάνεις σε σκέψεις παλιές.
Σε δρόμους με ψάχνεις, μα είναι ξένοι,
παρελθοντικοί.
Και χάνεις, όλο και χάνεις.
Χάνεις και πάλι αυτή την παρτίδα,
όσο κι αν με μαγεύουν τα χάδια και τα ταξίδια,
είμαι δοσμένη αλλού.

Πόλη μου, κρύα, ζεστή, παραμυθένια,
με ζεσταίνουν οι άνθρωποι σου,
μα να πάλι, με το πρώτο κρύο
νοσταλγώ τους ανθρώπους μου.
Με ψάχνεις κι εγώ κοιτάω από την άλλη.
Ψάχνω την κλεμμένη μου καρδιά
όσο μακριά κι αν είναι,
όσο κι αν ο καιρός θρυμματίζει μνήμες,
θολώνει ματιές.
Ψάχνω.

Πόλη μου,
εσύ η αιτία.
Η αιτία του πόνου μου
κι η αιτία της χαράς μου,
ο λόγος που αγαπάω ακόμα πιο πολύ,
ο λόγος που κάθε αγκαλιά κρατάει με τους καιρούς,
-τόσο-
για να ζεσταίνει τους άχαρους χειμώνες σου.

Come to Jimeta, the city ruled by Lamidos’
Dynasty, whose dynasty ruled in peace.
Come to the city where the rivers
Flow with the finest groundnuts oil,
Where the streams are overflowing
With cow’s milk and the sweetest honey,
Where the sun sets behind the hills,
Where the underground streams gush out nono.
You that love beauty, have you seen the colorful
Eyes of the women of Jimeta?
They’re as beautiful as caramel.
You that love strength, have you seen our sons?
They’re as proud as the hills around Jimeta.
Come with me to Jimeta, my fair lady, come to
The beautiful sunshine city, a land loved by Jimetans.

two concepts
dance around
in my mind
from time to time

the first one is
secure
small towns and
familiar faces
streets with grass
growing in the cracks
and parking lots with
the footprint of my
disintegrating shoe
pressed into fresh asphalt

streetlights that
come on to let
me know it’s time
to go home
a soft place
to call my own

the second one is
romantic
intriguing and scary
traffic and lights
and people and buildings
that fight to reach
into the clouds
an unfamiliar city
with corners and caveats
to explore for the first time

lights that never
burn out
restless crowds
to fade into
as soon as someone
learns your name

two very different thoughts
both equally
concerning in
two very different ways

complacency or
out of place?

i refuse to give
myself an answer
or maybe i’m afraid
to let myself wander

but a third question
knocks on my
skull and
lets itself in

and i can’t help
but wonder

what does
five in the morning
feel like when you
can’t see the sunrise
casting shadows
on empty fields?

does the world still
find a moment to
release its breath
before the day begins
when the city didn’t
even sleep the night before?

what if i don’t
belong here?

which outcome would
leave me least misplaced?